...standing out in a crowd

Last night Katherine, Joanne and I took a taxi to downtown Abu Dhabi. We wanted to find the souks (markets) that we had heard about, and hopefully snag a bargain or two on some clothing. Our driver dropped us off and we began walking. (I have never seen so many jewelry stores in my life!) We must have seemed quite the odd trio to the local people--a tall redhead, a petite brunette, and me. We finally found a souk--a series of small shops that sell anything from Levi's to tacky souvenirs (a shiekh and his lady salt and pepper shakers, anyone?!)--but our most pressing concern was our rumbling tummies. We asked shopkeepers along the way to point us in the direction of a restaurant. "Oh Ma'am, too far. You need taxi." I guess we looked too delicate to walk any distance! We kept wandering and looking and finally stumbled upon a delightful little cafe that sold sandwiches and fresh fruit drinks. After taking care of our hunger pangs, we were back out on the street again (in a good way) and made our way back to the souk. As we walked I heard catcalls and comments. It reminded me of being in rural Mexico a few years ago. I had asked my hostess, Candy, if the boys hooting and hollering realized how old I was--I could be their mom! She said it didn't matter--they had never seen a blonde person before, so I was an oddity to them. I was also reminded of our trip to Italy in 2000. Katie was a gangly 13 year old, badly in need of a hair cut. But to Japanese tourists in the Sistene Chapel she was "So pretty! So pretty!" After the previous day's taxi fiasco, we hit the jackpot on the way home. We got into a cab driven by the most delightful man from Nepal. He was college educated, and had worked as an accountant in his home country for 26 years. His job ended, but since he is still under 50 he needed to continue working. For 26 years he sat at a desk, so he decided he wanted to do something totally different. He loves driving a taxi, and is very proud of the fact that he speaks English so well. He had a wonderful sense of humor and kept us laughing the entire ride.

Today we're going to go to Carrefour, a large store (like Walmart on steroids) to get some more groceries and hopefully find an abaya or two. Katherine is so tall that she's having trouble finding floor-length anything.

An email came yesterday letting us know that official business is going to start this week--three days of training. Some folks are getting all worked up about the down time that we've had--they want to know where, what, and when, and they want to know NOW. (We're not in Kansas anymore...)

...being taken for a ride

We've been here just over a week now, and are starting to feel confident in getting to where we want to go. There's a free shuttle that will take us to IKEA, where we can catch another free shuttle to Marina Mall. We found a grocery store just minutes away, and we know how to get to another small mall close by. We know that it costs about 20 dirhams (about $5 US) for a one-way trip.

Yesterday, Kristina and I headed out to Al Raha Mall. I didn't think much would be open except the Lu Lu's department/grocery store, but getting out for a bit sounded like a good idea. We got there just fine, wandered around and made our purchases (I found a lovely blue top for $49 Dirhams), bought some groceries (I really didn't need much, but it all looks so interesting), then headed outside to catch a cab back.


We got into the first taxi in line, and told him our destination. "Yas Hotel?" he asked. "Hmmm..." He fiddled with his GPS, then took off. I was sitting behind him and hadn't seen Yas anything come up on the screen, so asked him if he knew where it was. He said he had only had the GPS for six days, so wasn't used to it, but "No problem, I'll find your hotel." We traveled for a bit, then I told Kristina that it wasn't looking right. We should have been heading in the opposite direction, on a main highway. I kept looking for signs that said "Yas Island," but all I saw was "Abu Dhabi" and "Dubai." I finally spoke up and told him that we were going the wrong way, and offered the number of the hotel so he could call and get directions. He said he could find it. He took an exit and got us turned around--going in the right direction--but we were on a side road in a bunch of construction. The meter was ticking along, and we weren't anywhere near the hotel. Quiet, reserved Kristina showed me a side of her I hadn't seen yet. She spoke sternly to the driver and told him that she would be reporting him. She told him we would pay him 20 dirhams, and no more.

We finally made it back, and paid him the 20, even though the meter said the fare was well over 40. It was uncomfortable--I wanted to believe that it truly was an error, and he wasn't just taking us for a ride.

...entitlement

I had briefly considered entitling this post "The Ugly American," but unfortunately, we Americans are not the only ones with a sense of entitlement. I have been amazed, apalled, and bemused by some of the things I've seen my fellow teachers (from all over the globe) say and do here in AD. We are the guests, and we were hired to do a job. We were flown here at no expense to ourselves (well, maybe a little out of pocket for overweight luggage, but hey, there were just some things I didn't think I could live without!). Tickets for spouses and children were paid for as well. We are living in a five star hotel, provided a sumptuous breakfast each day, have access to a full gym, two swimming pools, and spa treatments for 50% off the usual rate. The staff treats us like royalty, catering to our every whim.

Every bit of literature that I read about coming here to teach said to be flexible, go with the flow, and understand that things work differently here. Friends who are already here told me the same thing. We were also told, repeatedly, that we would be arriving during Ramadan, the Muslim month of prayer and fasting, and that it was especially important to be respectful of the customs during this time.

I guess the woman who sauntered across the lobby eating a bag of chips and drinking a soda didn't read the same info I did. Nor did the young woman who got on the bus last night (on our way to the police station for fingerprinting) whose neckline plunged (and plunged some more). The woman who stood at the front desk complaining about the lack of an optimal view from her room must have forgotten who was footing the bill. The group of girls in Ikea who had to be told four times by security that taking pictures inside the store wasn't allowed should be grateful they aren't in jail. The man who pretended to lose his number at the bank so he could cut in line made us all look bad. I'm afraid the local people are looking at us and thinking, "Hmmm...and we hired YOU to educate our children??"

But, for all the dolts in the group, there are many more who are kind, respectful, and patient. I have met people from all across the States and from around the world. Conversation has been effortless, and friendships are blooming. I'm eager to know where I'll be teaching and to get my apartment. Living in luxury has been wonderful, but I'm ready to do some laundry, cook my own meals, and settle in.

...yogurt

Or should that be spelled "yoghurt?" Either way, a LOT of it is eaten in this country. There is always a big bowl of it at breakfast, next to the fruit salad, and another bowl with a bit of olive oil drizzled in it next to the cucumbers and tomatoes. Breakfast is the only meal provided, so many of us have stocked our mini bar fridges with food for the rest of the day. At the grocery store the other day we went in search of the yogurt section. I was so surprised by what I saw that I had to pull out my camera. The entire aisle was devoted to yogurt, in small containers and large. (The picture doesn't capture it all.) And, only a very, very few of them were flavored. I've tried different brands and like them all. The yogurt is smooth, thick, and creamy. Its flavor is fresh and not very tart at all. I had been making my own yogurt at home for the past several months, but I don't know that I will here. Milk is a bit expensive, but yogurt is not. Oh, and I haven't had any tummy trouble that often accompanies overseas travel. I think it might be due to the good microbes that I've been ingesting every day. I also tried something called "laban" that was right next to the yogurt. I thought it was a yogurt smoothie--the container looked just like what a smoothie comes in at home. It turned out to be a buttermilk-like drink--much milder than buttermilk, but thick like a smoothie. I liked it, but my friends did not.

...a conversation with a cabbie

This morning two new friends and I took a cab from the hotel to the largest mall in Abu Dhabi--about a 20 minute drive. The porter shook his finger at the driver and admonished him not to take us on a roundabout trip--to go straight there and not to add miles. The driver muttered, "Yes, yes, I am not from Pakistan." He was from Bangladesh, and an "honest driver."

It always interests me to learn how people have learned English, so I asked the driver my standard question--"How did you learn English?" He thought for a second, then waved his hand in the air and said, "Here and there." He went on to explain that when he was young, only the priviledged in his country learned to speak English, and that was at the university level. Now, however, his children are learning English at school, and they start at the primary level. He apologized, saying that his English was "not so elegant." I assured him that his English was just fine--we were communicating, and that is what is important.

One of my companions asked him what he likes most about this country. Without hesitation he said, "It is safe. There is no crime." He then said that he liked having a job, and none are available in his home country. He goes to see his family every six months or so. He goes so often because his mother is 80 and has "the sugar sickness--diabetes," but his wife takes good care of her.

Once at the mall he wanted to know how long we would be--should he wait? We told him that we weren't sure--maybe a couple of hours, so not to bother waiting for us. He said he would be there when we returned--and he was.

A passing glimpse of the second-largest mosque in the world. I hope to get to see it up close!

...learning new things

I can open a hotel door, turn on the lights, run water for a bath, put a stopper in the sink and pull it out again. I can operate a TV and open a sliding door. Or can I?

The Education Council has put us up in a lovely hotel until our teaching assignments and housing have been determined. We arrived here around 10:00 last night, exhausted from the day of traveling. I looked forward to getting to my room, kicking my shoes off, soaking in the tub, and falling into bed. Instead, every little thing along the way had me flummoxed! I finally did figure out how to turn on the water, and I think I've got the lighting system down. The TV needed help from someone at the desk, so that wasn't my error. I won't be opening the balcony window again, though. It is big and heavy and almost impossible to close. It's not the usual slide-along-a-track type door. It's too hot to be out on the balcony anyway, but I had to take a look. A young man from housekeeping gave me a puzzled look when I asked how to let the water out of the sink, but he graciously showed me. I had to laugh--it was so simple.

To add to my consternation, the combo lock that I put on one of my bags wouldn't open. Thankfully, I had appropriate clothing in my other bag, so was able to go down for breakfast. Someone from engineering came up with a big pair of snips and cut the lock off for me.

I'm sure there will be more things to learn and other little bumps in the road, but I am delighted to be here.

The view from my window last night.

...missing her

Tomorrow is the big day, and although my suitcases aren't quite organized and packed just yet, they will be soon. I've spent the past almost-two weeks here at Katie's. We haven't spent so much time together since her freshman year of college when she came home for three weeks at Christmas. Katie has continued to work while I've been here, and I've made play dates with friends and relatives who live in the area, so we've both been busy, but she and I have settled into a rhythm of living together. It has been a good way to end my time here before flying off into the unknown. Katie has to work tonight, so last night was our last hurrah. We went to a fancy place downtown, known for it's view of the city. We talked and laughed and took lots of pictures. We walked along the riverfront, even though our shoes weren't exactly walking shoes, and enjoyed the lovely weather and interesting people. The memory of sitting side by side on a park bench, slurping our ice cream cones and just being together will be one of my go-to memories to get me through the rough spots ahead. I will miss you, Katie!